


impossible

by Transistors



Category: Borderlands (Video Games)
Genre: Evil Plans, Gen, Mild Gore, Short, Somebody Lives/Not Everyone Dies
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-16
Updated: 2018-06-16
Packaged: 2019-05-24 05:34:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 423
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14948502
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Transistors/pseuds/Transistors
Summary: "You are nothing like your father," they tell Angel, "you are absolutely nothing like him."And she agrees with them; she is better than him in every way.





	impossible

**Author's Note:**

> Originally written on tumblr, I'm posting this over on AO3 bc I actually rather like this fic.
> 
> Original date: 30th of March, 2016.

“You’re nothing like your father.” Lilith tells Angel once she is used to being with the Crimson Raiders, an odd smile on her face that seems like it is trying to be comforting somehow. “Trust me, you are  _definitely_ nothing like him.”

Angel watches her for a few days, takes in the way she depends on Eridium like a drug and watches her twitch whenever she tries to use her siren powers without it. 

‘Strongest siren in the world’ – only if she’s pumped up on Eridium like a druggie.

“You’re nothin’ like that  _tyrannical bastard,”_ Mordecai spits out, his hand absently petting Talon’s head, “you’re gonna prove to all o’ Pandora soon enough, an’ people’ll respect you as an equal, an’ not a bird in the cage.”

Talon is free to do whatever he wants, and Lilith and Mordecai adore him. Even as Talon pecks at Lilith and makes her cry out in pain, there is a strained smile on her face.

“I like you.” Brick says while he knits, and Angel looks at the design instead of looking at him. “I don’t see  **one bit o’ Jack** in ya! Which is why I like you.”

He doesn’t do anything with the scarf he knit. If anything, he throws it in the fire and snorts. He’s the simplest of the three, and the most enjoyable to be around as a result.

“You ever gonna take up Hyperion again?” Axton asks, his gaze on Maya and not on Angel, and she doesn’t answer. “I mean, I support ya if you do, but you gotta  _not_ be Jack 2.0.”

Maya sighs. “She’s nothing like him,” she says, and Angel looks at her. “She’s nothing like her father, Ax. Drop it.”

At that, Axton shrugs and goes back to cleaning up the ‘Missus’, and Angel is left alone when they both head out on a mission.

 

 

 

She is nothing like him, she repeats to herself as she stares up at the gore on the ceiling, at the bits and pieces of organ and flesh stuck to the walls. She is nothing like Jack, making past the gruesome art to grab at her dad’s mask, and then to grab at a jacket.

It’s lightweight and thin, more for fashion than actual warmth, and Angel rolls her sleeves up and smiles. She’s leaving Sanctuary soon enough, and she repeats to herself what everyone told her.

She is nothing like Jack.  
Angel hopes to prove to them that she is better than him, and to make him proud.


End file.
